


No More Running Alone

by thatfantasyworldofmine



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 09:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1220947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatfantasyworldofmine/pseuds/thatfantasyworldofmine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the 2014 NewWho Fic Olympics, Rose sees a whole new side to the Doctor after their encounter with the Dalek in Utah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No More Running Alone

The Doctor had forgotten how easy and satisfying it felt to disappear. To run away from everything and hide; be alone by choice, not by default. Rose was showing her passenger around the TARDIS - Adam. Stupid little ape, he could already tell. What kind of man didn’t wait for a nineteen year old girl;  _abandoned_ her, knowing she would be murdered if she didn’t make it in time? The Doctor scowled at the thought and shook his head. Rose seemed to like him, and who was he to judge, anyway? He’d closed the door on her. It was his fault.  
  
He waited for Rose to show Adam the console room, even managing a half-smile at the  _"It’s bigger on the inside! But that’s impossible - no, that can’t be!"_  
  
 _"It can,"_  the Doctor had wanted to reply impatiently.  _"You’re bloody well standin’ in it!"_  But he restrained himself, for Rose’s sake.  
  
"Come on, I’ll show you your room," Rose had told him patiently, tugging on his jacket until he followed her like a little puppy, open-mouthed and staring, into the hall and out of sight. The Doctor let his mouth curl downward, now openly displaying his mood to the empty console room. He wanted to get away from them, run away and hide like he was so good at doing.  
  
He remained in the console room long enough to fly the TARDIS into the vortex and set her to drift, ignoring his hands shaking on the controls and his hearts banging away inside his chest. The images played on his mind:  _Dalek, Rose, death, people, pain, terror, Dalek, Dalek, DALEK - “What-use-are-emotions-if-you-will-not-save-the-woman-you-LOVE?”_  Even when he closed his eyes, hands curled into fists around the now-still controls - the Dalek had survived! Who knew how many others had? Time had been split, cracks had been made, his enemy had lived on to terrorise more people and it was his fault, they were his responsibility, he-  
  
"Doctor?"  
  
The Doctor flinched violently and yanked himself away from the small, probing hand on his shoulder, chest heaving and eyes opening to see a shocked Rose Tyler standing a few feet from him. He flung himself backward against the console chair, breathing heavily and trying to get a control on his emotions, but it was no use. Tears stung his eyes and his jumper was suddenly so hot he was probably sweating like a pig beneath it.  
  
"Doctor, wha’s wrong?" Her voice was pure innocence and concern all throughout; oh, how in Rassilon’s name had he become so dependent on this tiny human?  
  
Rose slowly started towards him, concern and worry written all over her face, and that did it. How could she still care for him, even when he condemned her?  
  
"I’m sorry," he managed to gasp out, then staggered away from her outstretched hand, out of the console room and ran, losing himself in the maze of his ship.  
  
xXx  
  
Rose tried to follow him. She’d never seen the Doctor like that, ever. He needed her, he needed  _someone_ ; he was in full breakdown mode and Rose couldn’t bear to let him go through that by himself. But when she followed and tried to catch up, he was nowhere to be found. The corridors had been changed.  
  
 _Please, I’ve gotta find him,_  Rose begged the TARDIS, desperately running her hands along the walls, soothing the ship. But the corridors stubbornly remained as they were.  
  
After an hour of searching, Rose was getting tired and all the doors she opened started leading to her bedroom. Needless to say, she was not amused. She was exhausted, cranky, nearly crying with frustration and worried sick about the Doctor whom she was still unable to find.  
  
Eventually, after the tenth door opened to her room, Rose gave up. She dragged herself inside and managed to rid herself of clothes, pull on the nearest set of pyjamas she could find (off the floor) and collapse into bed. Even just imagine the Doctor, all alone in the vast ship and experiencing what she was fairly sure was a complete breakdown was enough to bring tears to her eyes. The sound of the TARDIS humming soothingly - usually a comforting sound to Rose - just made her feel worse.  _I’m sorry, Doctor, I’m so sorry._  She snuggled down into the blankets, hugged her pillow and cried silently until she cried herself to sleep.  
  
xXx  
  
"Rose? Oh, sorry, you’re still sleeping, I - actually, never mind, I’ll find it -"  
  
"Adam?" Rose grumbled tiredly, squinting through the dim light. "What is it?"  
  
"Oh, you’re awake," Adam said, sounding relieved. He lingered in her doorway, awkwardly unsure about disturbing her rest any longer. "Well, I just - um, well I couldn’t sleep, y’know with the time difference and all of that, but I was wondering if you could show me where the library was?"  
  
Rose internally rolled her eyes; this was what he’d woken her up in the middle of the night for? Time difference? It was a time machine, for goodness’ sake!  
  
"If you ask the TARDIS, she’ll show you the way," Rose said in a controlled tone, trying to sound patient. Her opinion of people descended rapidly when they woke her up before at least eight in the morning, let alone the middle of the night.  
  
Adam wrung his hands together nervously. “I know, and I didn’t want to wake you, but all she does is lead me back to that main room,” he explained, sounding apologetic and, to Rose’s tired mind, pathetic.  
  
"How’d you find m- y’know what, it doesn’t matter," Rose decided, shaking her head. "Can’t you jus’ find something in your room, Adam? It’s -" She reached for her clock and groaned aloud. "It’s three in the morning, Adam, I need to sleep."  
  
"Right - uh, sorry, I’ll just find something else," he said quickly, nodding, and then closed the door. The room was bathed in darkness once again and Rose sighed with relief, sinking back into the pillows. Only now she was awake, she remembered why it was so hard getting to sleep in the first place. More importantly, why the corridors were still being all wonky. The Doctor had run away.  
  
Rose tossed and turned for half an hour before accepting she probably wouldn’t get back to sleep. Assuming Adam had gone back to his room, Rose gathered up her comforter and made her way to the empty console room, hoping there was a chance the Doctor would turn up there.  
  
xXx  
  
 _Daleks are everywhere. So are his people, Gallifreyans; the ones he is supposed to be protecting are everywhere, running and screaming, robes billowing with each panicked step and flying as the bodies crumble to the ground already littered with debris. Their faces are bloody, injuries scattered across their forms, and as his eyes lower to his own arms, they too are dirty and battle-scarred.  
  
"ROSE," he shouts, although already his mind is asking, why would she be here? Rose shouldn’t be here, this is not her place, nor her time, she can’t be here because if she’s here then she’s dead…  
  
"Doctor!" A scream of his name echoes out from the chaos and he stumbles in the direction of the cry. Suddenly, it’s everywhere. The people are crying his name; his title is the last word on their lips as beams of light extend from the Daleks and kill them all.  
  
"EXTERMINATE."  
  
"EXTERMINATE."  
  
"EXTERMINATE."  
  
They crumble, and he falls back, staring in horror at the bodies. So many dead, and yet the Daleks do not fall. So many Daleks…  
  
"Doctor!"  
  
She’s closer and oh Rassilon, it’s Rose, he knows it’s Rose…  
  
"Doctor, please - no, you can’t, stop it -"  
  
"Rose!" he cries, heaving himself to his feet and running, staggering over dead faces and rubble until he reaches a clearer spot, free of bodies, where his Rose is on her knees in front of a Dalek, his laser pointing at her back. She’s dressed the same, her white top now dirty and grey, and her hair loose, mussed up and matted with dust. Her eyes meet his and he doesn’t fail to see how they light up for one split second, and then she screams.  
  
"EXTERMINATE!"  
  
"NO!" the Doctor roars, launching himself forward, but it’s too late, she’s dead, she’s gone.  
  
"Emotions-are-useless," the Dalek tells him as he skids onto his knees beside Rose’s body and turns her over.  
  
"You killed her!" he shouts at the machine, pulling her into his arms and cradling her body close to his chest. Her eyes are closed and her face pale beneath the dirt. "She wasn’t meant to be here and you killed her!" he yells at the Dalek, who for a reason he cannot fathom, has not killed him yet.  
  
"You-did-not-save-her, she-believed-in-you-and-you-betrayed-her," the Dalek informs him harshly, slowly circling the Doctor and Rose, as though teaching a lesson. "She-loved-you-and-you-did-not-love-her-enou-"  
  
"I DID LOVE HER!" the Doctor screams, dropping Rose’s body and launching himself at the Dalek, pounding the armour with his fists. He hears his knuckles crack but he doesn’t care; his people are dying, his beautiful Rose Tyler is dead, lying there discarded on the ground with a blackened hole on her shirt and a burned laser beam through her back. Dead. "I LOVED HER AND YOU KILLED HER YOU MACHINE YOU KILLED HER-"_  
  
"Doctor, wake up,  _please_  wake up-“  
  
"NO!" With a roar, the Doctor struck out at the hands holding him, suddenly his knuckles good as new again as he felt them meet flesh and bone. "Get off me, get off!" he yelled, fighting, kicking out, still caught up within the night terror. His foot connected with something soft and the hands released him with a hiss of air, soon followed by a distinctive  _thump_  on the floor.  
  
The Doctor scrambled back until he hit the corner of the room, blinking against the darkness - no, not dark. Dim light, but light nonetheless. Where the hell  _was_ he? He closed his eyes again and curled up, pressing his forehead against his knees and waiting for his breathing to calm down. He didn’t know how long he sat for, but eventually his hearts calmed and his fingers uncurled. He winced as his knuckles throbbed; he might have to explain that to Rose when she woke up.  
  
His knuckles throbbed. The Doctor’s eyes flew open in horror as he realised.  
  
He wasn’t alone in the room.  
  
As if fate had a sadistic sense of humour, Rose lay in almost the exact same position he had abandoned her in in his dream to attack the Dalek. As if her body had been carelessly thrust aside - or in this case, kicked.  
  
"Rose," he breathed, crawling to her side and ever so gently palming her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered at the touch but she remained unconscious. Blood trickled steadily from her nose. He could see in the dim light that a bruise was forming on one cheekbone, and the Doctor knew that if he lifted her shirt, there would most likely be more bruising beneath it. He knew how hard he kicked out. It was certainly hard enough to break ribs.  
  
He didn’t want to touch her; didn’t want to lay his hands on her at all for fear she might shatter. He would break her. He was certainly  _capable_  of breaking her. But he had to help her. He had to at least try and make up for all the hardship he caused her, all the pain and misery he projected and forced her to live with. He knew there was no way she would leave, though half of him wanted her to rage at him and demand to be sent home right away. He could dump her and Adam back in their respective times, then leave so he could never hurt her.  
  
The other half of him couldn’t bear to be separated from her again.  
  
Briefly brushing her mind with his to be sure she would remain unconscious, the Doctor slid his aching hands beneath her supine form and lifted her carefully, mindful of the potentially broken bones in her torso. He swiftly but carefully carried her to the medical bay, lay her on a bed and quickly wiped up the blood that was trickling down her mouth and cheek from her nose. The bruise on her cheekbone was darkening to a painful purpleish-blue colour, so the Doctor ran the dermal regenerator over her face. The bruise faded. Next, he extended her arm and injected her with an intense painkiller: one that would relieve her of any pain for the next twelve hours.  
  
 _Stop stalling,_  he told himself sternly. Gritting his teeth and forcing his hands to be steady, he unbuttoned her pyjama shirt. He bit the inside of his mouth so hard he tasted blood at the sight of Rose’s torso, and the Doctor was forced to lean away to suppress a sob. He’d done that to Rose.  _Him._  How could she ever forgive him?  
  
Bruising didn’t begin to cover it. At a glance, the Doctor guessed at least three, possibly four ribs were broken or fractured, but the dark purple mottled bruising covered her torso. Even her stomach was deeply bruised, leading him to believe he’d actually been quick enough to kick her twice before she collapsed, probably winded, or passed out from pain alone. Grinding his teeth, the Doctor set out to be his namesake, working over Rose and healing her body before she woke up.  
  
Unfortunately for him, Rose did not play along. She started to wake just as he was bandaging her ribs - bottom three ribs broken and the one above them, fractured. He hastily buttoned her shirt again then snatched his hands away. She sucked in a pained breath, letting out the tiniest whimper as she breathed out, then her eyes opened. The Doctor clamped down on the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t break down and cry, instead choosing to turn away as her gaze zeroed in on him.  
  
"Oh, I’m glad you’re alright," she murmured, relieved. He whirled around, his features rapidly morphing into angry indignation.  
  
"You’re glad  _I’m_  alright?” he repeated, restraining himself from raising his voice at the fragile human facing him.  
  
Rose looked baffled. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
The Doctor was speechless; how was this the first thing she came out with after he’d knocked her unconscious? “Rose -“  
  
"Doctor, it’s alright," she forestalled him, shaking her head. "It doesn’t-"  
  
"It  _does_  matter,” he interrupted, glaring at her, daring her to disagree. She didn’t contradict him, only bit her lip and stared thoughtfully at her hands. Her knuckles had been bruised as well, but he’d fixed that. He’d fixed everything. All that remained were the bandages tightly wrapped around her broken ribs.  
  
The Doctor gathered up the rest of the equipment spread out on and beside Rose’s bed and moved it back into the cupboards. Then he stood, palms splayed out on the countertop, head bowed and his back facing Rose, working on keeping himself calm, keeping up the cool facade he had managed so far, when all he wanted to do was gather her up in his arms and promise, swear his life that he’d never hurt her again. But he couldn’t promise even that. When he realised that, hot tears burned and blurred his vision.  
  
"The TARDIS let me find you."  
  
He didn’t move.  
  
"I was pretty demanding, I s’pose," she admitted. Through his silent tears, the Doctor’s lips quirked. He could just imagine; Rose shouting at the TARDIS, pleading with her, bargaining with her for the key to some random door where the Doctor was having a nightmare.  
  
"I was worried about you," Rose continued. "An’ I stopped looking for a while ‘cause I knew you’d want to be alone. But then Adam woke me up -" The Doctor scowled at the mention of their third passenger; he’d forgotten about him. "- And I couldn’t get back to sleep. So I went looking again, just in case… and then I found you." She fell silent and the Doctor sniffed, his tears pooling on the counter. This one human girl, so ordinary and humble… and yet, she could bring him to tears. Rassilon, he loved her. The stupid, stinking Dalek had one thing right: he loved Rose Tyler.  
  
"Doctor, please look at me."  
  
He had to, didn’t he? He owed her, both because he hurt her and because she saved him in so many ways. So he did. He turned, head still bowed, hands hanging uselessly at his sides. His shoulders hitched as he lifted his eyes to look at her, and she was smiling sadly at him, hand outstretched. “C’mere.” Like a puppet, he obeyed, walking almost robotically over to her and sinking onto the seat beside her bed. “C’mere,” she repeated gently, drawing him closer until his head rested on her collarbone. Her arms encircled him and he had never loved anyone more than Rose Tyler when his tears started to soak into her pyjama shirt.  
  
The Doctor allowed himself to lose track of time. He allowed the memories of his people and the Daleks to wash over him and wreak whatever havoc on his emotions they could manage. He allowed the guilt of hurting - both physically and emotionally - the woman he loved well up inside him and flood out through his tears. Rose remained where she was, holding him tightly, though she did not say a word the whole time. He cried and cried until his throat hurt and he felt more emotionally drained than he had in a long time. But eventually, as they always do, his tears slowed, then stopped altogether.  
  
He lifted his head, eyes sore from salt water, and realised Rose had been crying as well, judging by her red and puffy eyes. She grimaced.  
  
"Might’ve gotten your neck a bit wet," she apologised with a half-smile. He raised an eyebrow, pointedly staring at her soaked shoulder.  
  
"Think I won that round," he answered hoarsely, leaning back and rubbing his face. He took a deep breath. "Rose -"  
  
"Don’t," she warned him. He shook his head.  
  
"I have to say this," he told her simply; biting her lip, she hesitated, then nodded. "Rose, I’m sorry for hurting you," he began and then paused as his throat started to close up. For Rassilon’s sake, wasn’t he done crying? He took a quick breath, then looked back up at Rose in the eyes. "I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I closed the doors on you - don’t interrupt," he forestalled as her mouth opened. "I’ll never be able to make it up to you, but I realised something, Rose, that I should have acted on a while ago if even a bloody Dalek can spot it. I love you, Rose," he said quietly, and he struggled to maintain his eye contact as her own filled with tears. "I love you, and it kills me to see you in pain, it kills me when I’m not around you or if you’re in danger, I love you. I love you and it bloody terrifies me but I do, I have no idea how I missed it, but-" He was cut off by a soft palm pressed over his mouth. His brow furrowed exasperatedly, but was softened when he saw the smile on Rose’s face.  
  
"I love you too," she replied, eyes shining. "Doctor, I don’t blame you. I love you." Her cheeks flamed a little pink, but she pressed on. "If I move my hand, are you gonna start babbling again or can I kiss you?"  
  
His eyes flared a little wider in surprise, but softened into what could only be described as a smile in his eyes.  _The second one._  
  
"No more running," she murmured, then partially removed her hand, waiting for him to agree.  
  
He kissed her palm. “No more running alone,” he corrected, and she smiled.  
  
"I’m gonna kiss you now," she warned him, then moved her hand away fully, sliding it round to cup the base of his head at the back of his neck and pull him closer.  
  
"Not if I kiss you first," he muttered, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to hers.


End file.
